S1Ep8: The View at Belleview

Nino Brown

Why the fuck did I even call this girl?

I’ve never been the type of nigga that just does shit. But these past couple of days, that’s all I’ve been doing.

I was all set to ignore cuzzo’s call, since he had just left my crib to see to the hoodrat he’s infatuated with. I was all set to hang up when she was the one who answered.

Until she turned the camera and showed her homegirl.

Fine Shyt.

Short, thick, and dark skinned. My type fasho.

So I told myself fuck it. I wasn’t going to sleep no time soon anyway.

Fine Shyt in person was better than on camera. Whatever perfume she got is fire, strong even through the hookah they were covered in.

And her hands are soft as fuck.

I been busy the past two days. Ain’t even looked at my phone foreal.

I came to this view to relax. Burn one, and turn my brain off.

Only, I’m looking at the sunset, and Fine Shyt pops into my head. And once again I’m just doing shit.

Like calling her and asking her to meet me here.

She pulls up when there’s only a peek of the sun left, parking in front of me.

I’m in the back of my truck, rolling up another wood. If I ain’t live here the first twenty-one years of my life, the neighbors would have been called twelve. But they used to me being out here, blowing big buds and contemplating the wonders of the universe.

Fine Shyt gets out the car, shrugging on her jean jacket as she ambles over to me. The gate is already down, and she climbs into the back without asking, crawling over to me.

My fingers slow as I take her in. Do she know how sensual she looks, crawling over to me? I need her to do this shit again, in more favorable conditions.

She arranges herself until she’s next to me, facing the view that made me call her in the first place.

“I wish I lived closer. I feel like I missed it.” 

I glance over at her, and she’s pouting.

So cute.

“I took a picture.” I set down the wood and unlock my phone to show her.

Her eyes stretch. “This is so nice. How long have you been coming here?”

“Long enough.” I finish rolling my wood. “You smoke?”

“Yeah.”

I light the wood and toke a few times before I hand it to her. “Be careful. It can smoke you.”

She snorts, and inhales too deeply, by account of her coughing violently.

I shake my head as I take the wood from her and hand her an unopened water bottle.

She takes a swig as she socks her chest, but eventually she calms down.

“What type of weed is that?!” she hisses, mindful of the residential area.

My lips twitch as I relight my wood. “PK. Very strong hybrid strain, but not half and half. I told you it smokes you.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” she mutters as I blow smoke away from her and hand her back the wood.

Fine Shyt listens to me, finally, and don’t do too much.

“But I don’t really pay attention to names of weed, I guess. Why is it called PK?”

I take the bottle of water from her and waterfall a swig. “I named it after my cousin. Primetime Kush. But also, PK, because his daddy a preacher back where he from.”

Her eyebrows bend and I note the whites of her eyes turning pink.

“You named it?”

I tilt my head at her. “Yeah. It’s my strain.”

Her eyes hood, and she nods before handing me my wood back. “Cool.”

We’re quiet as we face the wood together. The sun goes down, only leaving these bright ass LED street lights they just put in.

Fine Shyt looks haunted. In the best way.

If that makes sense.

When the blunt is gone, we both leave the bed of my truck.

“What you doin’ tomorrow?” I ask before I can think. I got a million things to do, but I’ll move ‘em around if I can see her again.

“Job hunting,” she snorts, folding her arms.

I nod. “Go to Little Einstein’s Learning Center in Highland Ridge. My sister is the manager, and they need a tutor. You like kids, right?”

She looks up at me and nods. Her eyes are so dark, they almost black. They go perfect with her dark chocolate skin. 

Maybe it’s ‘cause I ain’t fucked in a while, but my lil’ man bricking up staring into her eyes.

She a problem. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice soft as hell.

“And after,” I reply, stepping into her space, “you can dress up. Put on some heels and some of that fire ass perfume, and I can take you to dinner.”

Her teeth comb her bottom lip, and I lick mine.

“O-okay.”

“Aight.” I wrap my arms around her soft body and pull her to me. She melts in my embrace, and even sighs.

Nah, Fine Shyt not a problem. She something way worse.

“Text me when you get home.”

She nods on my chest, before I let her go. I stay standing outside until she pulls off, then I grab my phone and dial cuzzo as I climb into the cab.

“Wazzam, cuz?” Dontaé answers.

“What’s Fine Shyt’s name?”

“Aw shit. Hol’ on.” The line goes silent, and I drum my fingers onto the steering wheel.

After a moment, he’s back. “Yeah, cuzzo? Her name Onyx.”

“Good lookin’.” I disconnect the call and throw my phone onto the seat next to me.

“Just doing shit,” I scold myself, as I turn the ignition over.

But no one’s around, so I let my lips spread into a smile before I wipe my face and pull off toward my crib.